Bayman's VoyeurAge
by SugoiByoshin
Summary: After the Dead or Alive 3 Tournament, rivals Bayman and Christie surprisingly team up for a special assignment.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.**

**The warm water drizzles down Christie's perfectly toned frame as she washes the flowery scented shampoo through her short platinum hair. Christie always loves to relax as she showers, which she does at least twice a day, not that she's dirty, but to reminisce about her childhood days back in England. Such fun it was to gallivant through the pouring rain of her home, back before she decided to turn down her less than honorable line of work.**

**Christie flings her hair back, loosing the water in style, and reaches down for the nozzle, turning it back to its original position, ending the flow of water. She slides the glass door open, grabs her white towel from the rack, but stops immediately. She wraps the towel around her wet body and eyes the slightly opened door suspiciously. She always showers with the door completely open, and Midnight knows better than to spy on her. **

**She clicks her tongue softly, sidestepping over the smooth floor and reaches into her cabinet drawer for one of her many backup pistols, but she feels only a hard, long rubber tube, which definitely doesn't belong. She withdraws her hand and studies the object askance, knowing exactly what it is, but knows it has no business in her apartment. A black snorkel. Christie never swims, she's not that blonde bubblehead Helena! She gently places the snorkel on the sink's edge and opens the door slowly, peeking into the dark hallway. Her other gun is always under the towels in the linen closet.**

"**What is this…?" Christie mutters as she pulls a small object from underneath her linens and looks down at the little black statue of a horse's head, expertly crafted from wood. Christie almost sighs immediately, placing the two awkward objects together and concludes them both as insignias of one of her many rivals, Bayman. That sneaky Russian is in her apartment! But unfortunately he's in possession of both of her available guns unless she is able to take him off guard.**

"**Not a chance." The deep male voice emanates from the end of the hallway, as Christie suspected, and light immediately fills the hallway from the standing lamp. Christie rushes forwards to possibly catch him before he is able to get a shot off, but she halts in mid attack. Bayman sits casually on her grey sofa, his hands behind his head and his black boots rested comfortably atop a black animal rug. He wears denim jeans and a Russian soccer jersey.**

"**You know, I would have left my boxers with the hammer, sickle, and red star, but I figured you got the point I was making," Bayman snickers derisively as he holds up both of her pistols by the barrels in one hand, "You focus _way_ too much in the shower, Christie."**

"**What are you doing here, Bayman?" Christie commands the question with authority, but then immediately realizes her companion is nowhere to be seen, "Where's Midnight?" Bayman chuckles lowly as he tosses the pistols on the couch and shrugs his shoulders,**

"**Do you know how much my Timbz cost?" He asks with a smirk and Christie glares at him scathingly, furious at being mocked,**

"**What the hell does that even mean?" Bayman taps his left heel on the floor lightly and Christie looks down and her eyes widen at seeing the rug underneath his boots, the one that she never bought. A black panther rug, four paws and a head with a surprised shriek plastered on its face for eternity.**

"**You!" Christie begins forwards, but Bayman leaps to his feet, holding his hands up and laughing,**

"**I'm kidding you!" He laughs and Christie halts momentarily, but doesn't lower her knife of a hand, "Midnight's out back with that little ferret, Tina, that thought my black King was a chew toy. Ah, good times." Bayman sits back down casually, seeming not at all intimidated by a much superior assassin.**

"**I've had about enough of this!" Christie demands, stepping closer and Bayman loses his smirk and stares at her intensely, **

"**I'm here to help you." He begins in a serious tone and Christie tilts her head, wondering how the fool could ever assist her, "You realize that when you fail Donovan, the assassin becomes the assassinator…or uh, I mean, the assassin becomes the assass, shit, um…"**

"**The hunter becomes the hunted?" Christie corrects him impatiently and Bayman nods hesitantly, and a bit frustrated, **

"**Well yea, but I was trying to be clever for our situation."**

"**You failed. Just get to the point."**

"**Do you think I could I get a picture of this?" Bayman asks, holding up his hands in an L and a 7 to create a camera lens, but Christie ignores him,**

"**Tell me why you're here!"**

"**Are we making a deal?" Bayman asks anxiously, and Christie leaps forwards, but he jumps backwards, dodging her precise kick.**

**Bayman rolls backwards, tumbling across the hardwood floor, and almost rams his head into the granite table, but he is able to halt himself. Christie grabs her guns from the sofa and aims, but Bayman holds his hands up quickly,**

"**Okay, I'll tell you! Donovan is sending an assassin to get rid of you!" Bayman explains through a pant and Christie scoffs mockingly,**

"**And you think I need your help with one man? That's insulting."**

"**I simply figured I'd help you, you'd help me. You know, scratch each other's backs." Bayman tries his best to place on a confident smirk with two guns in his face and Christie almost allows an amused smirk to slip onto her stoic face,**

"**If I wanted to get dirt underneath my nails, I'd take up gardening. I'll give you props, you shutdown my security system and were able to plant you little toys—"**

"**I didn't shutdown anything." Bayman interrupts and then his mouth drops as he looks behind himself towards the front door. Christie only has time to look away from Bayman and pull the triggers as the figure leaps into view with a massive flashing knife.**

**A/N: I had to watch Christie's Doa3 ending movie numerous times to be able to describe her apartment in better detail. Yep, that's why. :P**


	2. Chapta 2

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, Beastboy, Gleeful Melancholy, Scrooge, and Crimson Guard!**

**Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.**

**Christie flips backwards gracefully, pushing off with her long, giraffe like legs and lands on her hands as the black clad assassin slashes into her sofa with his massive machete of a knife. Christie recovers and fires again, but the assassin spins deftly away, impossibly dodging the projectiles, seeming to faze through time itself.**

**Christie scowls, landing nimbly back on her bare feet and the assassin rushes forwards, his mask allowing only his vicious red demon eyes to be visible. He slashes upwards, but Christie evades underneath and attempts to sweep his legs. The assassin laughs derisively as he leaps over her attack and slashes forwards. Christie dodges backwards, thrusting her well defined stomach away from the blade, and dodges the blade by mere centimeters.**

"**Impressive!" The assassin sneers as he spins around in a complete circle, looking to gain momentum, but Bayman leaps forwards to attack. The assassin gasps, having seen the Russian for the first time, but easily dodges away from Bayman's clunky attempt at a tackle. Bayman squeals as he crashes into the sofa, sending feathers into the air and the assassin snickers and turns back to face Christie, but her guns are already in his face.**

"**I spit in Donovan's face by sparing Helena and he sends me you?" Christie shakes her head disparagingly and waves her left pistol, "Remove your mask, I like to see the faces of my victims." Christie's stare becomes more intense, but the assassin makes no move to reveal his identity. Christie scowls angrily and thrusts her gun closer to his face, but as she moves, he falls backwards and a blade extends from the toe of his boot.**

**Christie only has time to gasp as the hidden blade slashes upwards at her face with his kick, but the attack is knocked astray, and the blade whispers against her skin. The assassin groans as Bayman pulls him backwards in a suplex, slamming him onto his back in a ground shaking, finishing move.**

"**Im…possible." The assassin mutters lowly as Christie regains herself and looks down, tempted to shoot Bayman simply to erase the smug grin on his face.**

"**You move like the gazelle. Screw Code Cronus, you should get your own FPS." Bayman holds his thumb up and Christie raises her left eyebrow in confusion,**

**  
"What was that?"**

"**I'm not sure…words just seemed to spill from my mouth…" Bayman scratches his brown haired scalp through astonishment and Christie returns her attention to her downed opponent.**

"**Anymore secrets we should know about?" She asks with a mocking tone and the assassin waves his middle finger at her,**

"**I can't believe I was defeated by two failures."**

"**Who's the larger failure?" Bayman asks as he sits down on the disheveled sofa, "The failure or the man defeated by the failure?" He adds a self-important chuckle at the end and Christie waves her hand, motioning him to silence.**

"**Run back to Donovan and tell him I don't fall easily. And I expect two thousand dollars, American, in my account tomorrow to pay for my couch." Christie hauls the assassin to his feet by his tight fitting shirt and he blinks his eyes in disbelief,**

"**That couch isn't worth two thousand!"**

"**I don't care how much its worth." Christie holsters her guns in her towel and points towards the door, "And lock my security system on the way out."**

**The assassin throws his hands into the air with an exasperated moan as he drags himself passed the kitchenette and out the front door, threatening something about buying periwinkle blue. Christie exhales deeply and plops down on her ruined sofa beside Bayman who still has his lips closed tightly.**

"**His knife would have smudged my mascara at the most, don't think you did anything." Christie sighs and Bayman looks over insulted,**

"**Don't be like that. The favor I ask is a little more important than smudged makeup, but it's ten times less dangerous, I promise."**

**Christie looks over with an apathetic expression and Bayman stands to his feet and dusts a feather from his shoulder, **

"**You don't happen to still have your invitation to the supposed DOA4 tournament do you?"**

"**You mean that card with Zack kissing the large breasted woman on the cover?" Christie stands to her feet in asking and Bayman nods his head with a grin, "As if Donovan would really let a black guy host his tournament."**

"**I hear he keeps slaves." Bayman adds nonchalantly as Christie walks to the kitchen counter and opens a drawer underneath the sink. She retrieves a small purple packet of information and thrusts it at Bayman as he prattles on about some American he read about named Thomas Jefferson.**

"**Is this all you want?" Bayman grins as he takes the packet and looks within, noticing the afore mentioned greeting card, picturing Zack and Tina.**

"**Perfect! The coordinates to Zack Island." Bayman shoves the packet into his jersey and casually places his arm around Christie's shoulders, causing a more than irritated look from the cold assassin, "A man alone cannot infiltrate the Island of Women. I will need a companion, Misses Bayman."**

"**Absolutely not." Christie slides away his muscular arm and Bayman's mouth widens,**

"**The Russian Russell Crowe has never been turned down!"**

**Christie moves away from the kitchen, walking back towards her room and Bayman follows quickly with a barrage of desperate pleas,**

"**Okay, you can be my cook…my maid, uh how about my mechanic? Ok….my madam? My Owner! Pleaaaasssee!"**


	3. Chapta Thrizzle

**Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.**

**Christie looks over disgustedly at the constant stream of half chewed peanuts within a river of stale 7-Up that spills onto her black jacket from the Russian's half opened mouth. Even if she could forgive the wetness, his wood-sawing snores and the constant smacking of his lips deserve numerous slaps. She must continue to tell herself that the plane will land soon and that selflessly assisting half-wits will eventually serve as her redemption.**

**But that wailing baby is another problem altogether. Christie suppresses a growl as she turns in her seat, poking her head into the thin aisle and looks behind her, at the much too young mother holding a crying baby that doesn't match the skin complexion of the man sitting next to her, but that's another issue.**

"**Change it, feed it, shut it up somehow!" Christie orders with her most menacing scowl and young woman's eyes bulge as she looks away from the screen in the front, which plays 'Barbershop 3, State of the Barber's Union'. She peels the headphones away from her pierced ears and flips her blonde, silver, and pink streaked hair.**

"**Do you want something, grandma?" She asks through gum chews and Christie reaches to her waist, but curses internally when she realizes that the annoying bastard of a rent-a-cop confiscated her favorite gun when she decided to coerce the flight attendant to board her row first. She hasn't killed anyone in months, but those two are going to look like accidents, this hussy will be third.**

**Christie blinks twice and loses the scowl in an attempt to be more agreeable,**

"**Would it be possible for you to quiet your child?" The young woman ignores Christie and places the headphones back on and Christie leaps to her feet and brings her fist into the air, but stops. Redemption, redemption, redemption. She repeats the word over and over in her head as she discreetly reaches into the oblivious woman's lap, and procures the crying infant. **

**Holding the baby away from her already ruined jacket, Christie studies every ounce of her section of the plane to stash the baby, and decides on a nearby overhead compartment. She replaces the weight in the idiot woman's lap with a small black leather carrying case. Through victory, Christie sits back down and crosses her arms with a smug grin, but her relaxed state doesn't last long.**

**She slowly turns her head to the left where a larger than average woman sits in the middle row, her chicken filled face barely inches away from Christie's ear as she stares dreamily at the sleeping Bayman. Christie wipes grease from her freshly washed cheek and raises an eyebrow,**

"**What do you want?" She asks slowly, enunciating every word for emphasis and the woman swallows a large chunk of white meat and places her trough of a chicken bucket on the floor beside her hooves,**

"**Is he a friend of yours?" She points a stubby finger towards Bayman and Christie almost ponders the question, but the woman doesn't give her time to answer, "What's his name?"**

"**Ivan 'The Retarded', why?"**

"**Can I…sit next to him?" Christie turns her head to look at the dribbling mass sitting in the seat next to her and shrugs her shoulders, wondering why people have eyes if they refuse to use them. Christie doesn't answer, she simply stands up and waves the woman over, who practically leaps across the aisle to land beside the Russian. **

**Christie cringes as she looks down at the puddle of chicken grease and giblets in the woman's seat, and immediately regrets her choice. The giggling, glass wearing boy staring at her is simply the poison on top of the burned turbot.**

"**Close your face." Christie commands the pimply teenager with a tightened fist, but he only giggles and fixes his clip-on tie,**

"**I like your legs."**

**Christie covers her face with both hands and wipes them downwards, then turns her focus to the emergency exit on the western side of the plane. She would need rope to secure herself as not to be sucked out as well, if the movies are true any way. She taps her finger on her chin for a long moment, wondering if the plan would be successful or not, but decides against it.**

"**I'll tell you what, go to the water closet and sit down with your eyes closed. I'll come in shortly, but if you open your eyes, you won't get a…kiss." Christie explains and then sighs, knowing it'll never work to get rid of the runt, but he leaps from his seat, and like Wally West, speeds down the aisle and the 'occupied' sign bleeps on in less than three seconds. Christie snickers, but her diabolical, although sadly non-fatal plan is not yet concluded.**

"**You there." Christie points across the plane to a muscular tan skinned man with a goatee and two earrings, wearing a purple shirt that reads 'Gamecube Pwnz.'**

"**Me?" He asks in a quite feminine voice, gesturing lavishly with his well manicured hand which would put Helena's prissy self to shame.**

"**Yes. Judging by your shirt, you like boys. There's one waiting in the lavatory for you." The man's eyes widen in excitement and he claps his hands in delight and rushes towards the bathroom.**

"**Geez, I never thought match-making would be so strenuous." Christie wipes a drop of sweat from her forehead as Bayman's voice rings out in disgust,**

"**Match making? Woman, you promote WROOONNNGG love!" Christie spins to see Bayman rushing towards her, the large woman from before sprawled unconscious on the floor with a massive lump on top of her head.**

"**What did you do?" Christie asks, somewhat sympathetic for the downed pastoral creature.**

"**That beast was trying to stroke my nuts, woman!" Bayman demands furiously and Christie shakes her finger reproachfully,**

"**That's quite a lewd thing to say, Bayman."**

"**It's quite a lewd thing to do, damnit!" Bayman pulls his tube of Planter's Peanuts from his pocket and throws them to the ground in defiance, "I'm not eating these now!" Bayman wipes his mouth of moist crumbs and looks at his wristwatch,**

"**Neverthemore, I'm glad I woke. It's almost time we were going."**

"**What?" Christie asks through confusion, truly never hearing of Bayman's plan, other than the fact that it was imperative that they were on this flight to Okinawa.**

"**Well I'd…" Bayman looks around discreetly and moves closer to Christie's ear to whisper the rest, "…hijack the plane, but you know, with all that's going on nowadays, it didn't seem appropriate." Out of nowhere, Bayman holds two black and red parachutes into the air with a wide grin, "So we're jumping!"**

"**Oh, that's taking the piss!" Christie throws her hands into the air and Bayman shields his face frightened, "Up until now you've been a vague idiot, but this is simply absurd! I won't go another step!"**

"**So now you're going to be an Indian Giver?" Bayman asks angrily and Christie glares at him,**

"**Oh yea, it was the Native Americans that broke the deal, blame them why don't we."**

"**You and the Indians can complain about Americans over some tea on your own time! This is my time, and Russia, my dear, is number one!" Bayman spins around and crosses his arms obstinately and Christie must pocket her fists not to punch him in the back of his soccer-ball head.**

"**Where did you go to school, Bayman?" Christie asks, allowing the fire to leave her voice, and Bayman scowls and looks over his shoulder,**

"**I was an orphan!"**

"**And?" Christie asks and Bayman turns back around,**

"**I couldn't afford it selling Okroshka on the corner! What are you going to do, derate an uneducated orphan for the rest of the trip?" Christe actually begins to frown and is furious with herself for being tricked and by the time she digests the words 'rest of the trip', they are already in the undercarriage of the plane, looking down at the open sky.**

"**No, no, no, no, no!" Christie repeats, looking down at the white clouds and Bayman grins, looking over at her,**

"**Listen, if we jump now, we'll land right in center of the pool! Zack Island is pretty much directly below us!"**

"**Pretty much!" Christie asks, with a frustrated scowl, "If we land in water, won't we get tangled in our chutes? Won't we drown?" Bayman scratches his head and shakes his head slowly,**

"**Nah."**

"**You are the most—" Christie's words are ripped away as she is sent screaming from the plane, the wind streaming passed her face as moisture developes in her wide eyes. He pushed her! "Bayman, I swear if I land, IF I land, I'm going to donate your head to MLS!"**

"**Just focus on the task at hand, dearest!" Bayman yells from behind and Christie shuts her eyes tightly, **

"**An assassin has no fear, an assassin has no fear, an assassin has no fear, terror has no effect, hesitation is negated in all factors of the kill, an assassin has no fear!" Christie screams the last line of her training as a loud splash of water takes her breathe away.**


	4. Word Up Kanye

**A/N: First off, I'd like to apologize to ALL my readers for my long hiatus from this story, maybe not long compared to some, but for me, I'm quite disappointed in myself. So I had Lei-Fang punish me, but then realized that was more of a reward, so I had Bass put on a little dance…and so after I threw up every meal I've eaten since I was seven, I decided to continue the story.**

**Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.**

**Christie gurgles water as she surfaces through the heated, fresh water and inhales beautiful air, although a bit perfumed. She smoothes her hair out of her face as she makes her way to the metal ladder, looking furiously for that ape of a man. He's going to wish he never learned the letters D, O, or A.**

"**Christie, I can't feel my back!" Bayman yells from the diving board, laying flat on his back where he landed, his parachute partially covering him like a body bag, and justly so. Christie growls angrily as she searches her drenched clothes for a weapon, but remembers they were all confiscated at the airport. She makes do with a writing pen, clicking the weapon into the ready.**

"**You won't need your eyes in hell, Bayman!" Christie leaps onto the diving board and Bayman lets out a feminine yelp as he fights off her deft attacks, dodging his head from side to side, not to be stabbed by the writing utensil and from the struggle, they both collapse over the side of the board, and submerge together.**

**Christie is easily the first back up, but only after kicking Bayman multiple times in the stomach, leaving him tangled in his shoot, with only his nose and mouth un-submerged in the tangle. Satisfied, she climbs out and begins drying her hair with a discarded towel left on a very lucky beach chair which has a number of colorful squares beside it, some sort of floatation devices.**

"**Okay, so I've made some mistakes in my life." Bayman begins, trying to make good use of his last moments in this world, "I won't lie, I've killed a few people. But I've never cheated on a woman, or stolen from a child. I've never jay-walked or gave a police officer the finger. Never once! Once! Did I think to backtalk to a nun, and this is what I get. To die so very, very close to my goal…" **

**Bayman makes a whimpering noise, and tries to dramatically wipe a tear from his eye, but forgets he's tangled and almost drowns himself. Through a number of coughs, he regains his original position, with only his mouth and nose out of the water, his open eyes unusually comfortable with the water, which has a distinct aftertaste of Dr. Pepper.**

"**Back in my home town of Vorkuta, that's what we call a 'shame'. You hear me, Christie, my dearest muse, you've made me shame myself!" Bayman begins to pathetically sob in his floating tangle of shame, but Christie isn't moved by his words as she slips out of her wet clothes, reluctantly into a short sleeved, black and purple wetsuit lying conveniently next to the chair.**

"**Live the rest of your miserable existence in shame then!" Christie answers as she moves towards the exit gate of pool, "If I see you in the next life, prepare for the same fate." She swiftly leaps over the locked gate and lands in a crouch, but immediately hears loud grumblings to the north. Through the darkness, she can barely make out the glint of silver and the silhouettes of a female and a car.**

"**That perverted bastard! Ever tried a threesome, baby, how about a five-some, stupid-ass Zack!" The woman continues to grumble in the darkness as the trunk to the car slams. Christie has no idea how to get out of this instillation, but perhaps hijacking this woman's car will somehow get her away from this stupidity.**

"**Which way were the docks again…" The woman thinks to herself as she opens the driver side door, and Christie seizes her opportunity and slashes forwards through the darkness. She begins to leap forwards as the car starts and two headlights blind her into stumbling forwards, slamming into the hood of the BMW.**

"**What in the name of fried chicken!" The woman leaps out of the car with a metal bar in hand and stares at the dazed Christie, blinking her eyes rapidly, but can't seem to get rid of the massive spots in front of her eyes. She can barely make out the smaller object getting closer.**

"**Ah, so Zack sent you to get me back? How he survived the rat poisoning, we'll ascertain later, but be sure that you shall never taste this brown sugar!" The woman yells angrily, and Christie braces for the attack, but the metal bar never connects with her. Instead, it clatters to the concrete road yards away and what she believes to be the woman, stumbles backwards.**

"**Yea, she left me for dead, but I can't allow you to damage such a beautiful sculpture of the great deity," Christie would rather have had the bar end her life than hear Bayman's voice again, "And by 'great deity', I mean Itigaki…wait, who?"**

"**Another man on the island! How could that be?" The woman asks from her daze on the ground and Bayman smoothes wet brown hair behind his ear and holds his muscular arm down to her and in a smug voice speaks,**

"**Do not be alarmed, my darling, for we mean you no harm. We aren't allies of Zack, in fact, I've skillfully infiltrated his island and—" Bayman's words are ripped away as he is sent bounding forwards, the sound of metal connecting to his global skull echoing throughout the island.**

"**That's not even the worst I'll give you!" Christie yells, swinging the metal bar wildly at the scrambling Bayman, who grasps the back of his head with tears streaming down his face, "I don't know if apes have as many lives as cats, but we're sure going to find out!"**

**Bayman finally scrambles behind the other woman, shivering behind her in terror, and the glint of evil behind Christie's eyes is more than enough to convince the woman to flee towards the car, leaving Bayman bare to the world, his imminent doom fixed. Through desperation, he quickly clasps his hands together and bows his head down to the ground,**

"**I beg you, Christie, with all my heart, don't make my children orphans!" The metal bar ceases to enclose on his position and Bayman peaks upwards to see Christie with a frown on her face, and the glint of evil disappears from her eyes. He thinks to let out a sigh, but this could very well be a sign of false hope, the greatest enemy in existence.**

"**To kill such a useless, pitiful being would be so far below me. Please, tuck in your gut." Christie points to the female sized wetsuit that Bayman has squeezed himself into, which is unzipped, with the cups at his shoulders like shoulder pads and his stomach spilling from the middle, "How you saved me originally is beyond me."**

"**I can move when I have to. You are the drive behind my life, my wondrous sky, how can I thank you!" Bayman leaps forwards with pursed lips, but Christie dodges to the side, and he barely rights himself before slamming into the woman's car. The woman still standing speechless, utterly confused at what is going on.**

"**I'm Christie, and this man's name is not to be spoken, but he spoke the truth, we're not going to hurt you." Christie tosses the metal bar away, and holds her hand out to the woman. The woman immediately shakes it, with a wide smile, revealing white teeth through a deceitful grin,**

"**I'm Niki, you wouldn't happen to be a gambler would you?" Christie raises an eyebrow at the odd question as Bayman begins to sing,**

"**Now I aint sayin she's a gold digger, but she aint messin with no broke nig--" Christie spins around and kicks him in the groin, sending the song spiraling into a squeak, landing him on his knees with more tears.**

"**Listen, Niki, I just need a way off The Island," Christie begins, "You said something about docks, where are they? I'll give you all the money you want if you take me with you." Niki rubs her chin in thought as she studies Christie, and then looks down to the still squeaking Bayman, and then back up,**

"**He's staying right, cuz I don't have any room left." Niki turns around and points to the car which is packed to the hilt with junk, most of it with golden words 'Property of Zack' stamped on them, including the car, which has a miniature version of a golden Zack as the hood ornament, his arms spread wide as if flying.**

"**Whoa, why not just get a big carrier jet from the Army and transport the entire island?" Christie asks disdainfully and Niki's eyes widen in elation, **

"**I could do that? Holy shizzle, I could. Wait, a second, how many men would I have to seduce to infiltrate a hanger, not more than five, I could handle that, especially if I wear my hooker pumps, and then I'll score some Army helmets and—" **

**Niki falls flat to the ground as the sound of metal rings out and Christie forces herself to nod towards Bayman for actually doing something good for once.**

"**I couldn't take that voice anymore." Bayman tosses the metal bar on the ground and then thinks to pick it back up, since Christie will more than likely try to use it against him once more.**

"**I've stopped caring what you do, Bayman, but I swear if you follow me, I won't hesitate." Christie begins walking towards the car, stepping over the unconscious Niki who holds the keys, but Christie prefers hot-wiring anyway. Bayman tries to zip up the wetsuit, but with no luck, and quickly holds his arm up to Christie.**

"**I need only one more favor from you, Christie." He says quickly, back with the smugness, and Christie peaks over her shoulder with a furious scowl, "I won't back down! This is important. I swear Donovan will be off our backs for good after this!" Bayman demands and Christie thinks to herself, wondering if Donovan is really that much of a threat. That much of a threat to risk staying with this man any longer.**

"**Come on, am I that bad looking? Is it the eyebrows?" Bayman's smug look of determination transforms into a pathetic frown, "My poor ailing sister, the hairstylist, she has no money for her ten kids and three sick puppies. She had to practice on me so she wouldn't mess up a real customer's eyebrows. And she burned the follicles, so now their stuck in this terrible scowl. I'm cursed with a beautiful smile, but now, no one will ever see it." **

**Bayman breaks down into sobs and Christie holds in the growl that she wants so much to emit forth, but simply steps back over Niki and looks out over the landscape of the island, bright lights of buildings beckoning them forth and she looks down towards Bayman,**

"**Get on with it."**


	5. Love Tha Latin Booty

A/N: I'm sorry to inform you all, but I have decided to give up on this story. I've simply lost interest and I have much better things to do than write for the enjoyment of myself and those I respect and love and to be completely honest, I'm kiddin right now…seriously. Ok, who had some raised eyebrows, "this isn't the Byoshin I know!" You're damn right! I'm back like Moses to bring the law…wait a second, Mase never went to no mountain! Please enjoy! Only two chapters left and then I'm planning to begin another, I mean, I can't let Scrooge have all the fun of spreading greatness across the front page. )

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive. I do however eat at MacD'z as much as I can AND I only remember a few things in Spanish, all this will come into play as you read, )

Bayman leads the winding journey through the dark grassy streets of the large, vegetation enveloped island, rolling and crawling unnecessarily. Christie follows for what seems to be an eternity of foolishness with her hand covering her face, masking the quite annoyed and agitated expression.

"Do you even know where you're going, Vlady?" Christie asks as they reach an intersection in the street, and Bayman drops down to one knee and pulls out a crudely drawn map on the back of a McDonald's bag. He studies it with focused and intense eyes and then flips it over and smiles over his shoulder,

"Me La Encanta, Christie. That means I love you in Spanish." Bayman winks excitedly, as if he discovered the secret to life and Christie groans and regrets ever allowing him to live,

"No it doesn't! That only barely means, 'I'm loving 'it' in Spanish! It's a fast food joint and the sole cause of acne in America's youth!" Christie snatches the greasy bag away from Bayman's disheartened hands and stares.

On the map, there are six lines marked with black marker, which somehow must represent paths, and to the sides of the marked routes are lopsided squares that can only symbolize buildings. There are two stick figures in the pool with the caption 'Bayman and Christie, nude swimming hopefully' and over one of the numerous terribly drawn shapes are the words 'I think it's this one.'

"Woah, you truly are a genius." Christie says sarcastically as she turns towards Bayman and he smirks smugly, brushing his hair with his hands,

"My mother always told me I could draw like DiCapri—" In mid-sentence, Christie shoves the crumbled bag into Bayman's mouth, causing him to erupt in a series of violent choking and coughing.

Finally content with herself and fed up with the journey, Christie spins and begins walking away, but Bayman is able to free himself of the unconventional losange and points excitedly,

"That's the building! Haha! I found it!" Bayman rushes forwards to the largest structure of the island, four levels high with some sort of glowing orb protruding from the zenith. Directly in front, there seems to be some sort of old, no longer functioning Ferris Wheel.

"You couldn't just say you looking for a hotel? It took you two hours to find the building you can see from all over the island?" Christie spins around to continue his deserved scolding, but Bayman is already scurrying up the seats of the stolen carnival ride, moving like some sort of massive, overweight squirrel.

"What are you waiting for, muse, we're so close I can feel it!" Bayman hollers down to her as if he's making some sort of progress, but every seat he leaps into above him, the wheel creaks backwards, sending him back to the height he started.

"Why not just take the elevator?"

"We can't blow our cover! This must be salacious! Like the Navy Berets do it!"

Christie shakes her head and begins up the marble steps, leading to the entrance as Bayman continues to struggle, but finally surrenders to the much more intelligent and cunning opponent. Bayman leaps from the seats and attempts to roll across the grass, but simply lands on his face, taking in quite a bit of shrubbery.

"Christie, I'm hit! They got me! Send…backup…recognizance team! I need…assistance!" Bayman yells from the ground, attempting to crawl towards her, but she doesn't turn around, simply continues into the hotel and out of sight. Bayman groans sadly, but doesn't give up hope as he attempts to remember his survival training from that place he trained at.

"What was that place called, 'Crash Course Commandos' or was it…no, that was that porn flick I saw yesterday…" Bayman continues to reminisce about babes in high heels and army helmets, but his fantasy crashes to a halt as a dark figure looms above him. He squints in the darkness, but since he refuses to eat carrots, for he doesn't want to appear homosexual, he can't see in the dark.

"Not to sound cliché, but are you God? I mean, the Kwanza God cause you definitely isn't White…" Bayman continues to squint and the man shakes his head with a scowl,

"A gray haired woman said there was a racist prowler on the loose, I suppose she was correct." The dark skinned security guard reaches down and grabs Bayman around his collar, well more like the loose skin around his flabby neck because his wetsuit doesn't reach his upper chest.

"Ah, don't fall, nephew, I'm just lounging in, you know, surveying the cubs and stuff." Bayman tries his best to sound 'down' mostly what he heard on that music station, VH1 was it? He's pretty sure that's what they listen to.

"We don't take well to prowlers around Mister Number One Playa, Zack-Attack's guests. Instead of bothering him, I'll take care of you myself."

The guard lifts Bayman over his shoulder easily and Bayman's eyes widen, looking at this brick of a man move him like a sack of potatoes, very sexy and romantic potatoes, but tubers none-the-less.

"Come on, man, don't be doing me like this! Wait, that sounded right! Haha!" Bayman attempts to celebrate, but he is held too tightly. The muscular guard tosses open the hotel doors with one hand and enters the quiet and desolate lobby.

"Where's all the fine hoes, brotha? Hey, I'm getting the hang of this!" Bayman asks, looking around, trying to distract the man enough to formulate a plan and the guard scowls,

"The Massive Golden Bar's Guests are probably showering and preparing for bed as we speak, so there is no—"

"Showering! So I'm not too late!" Bayman summons a great strength from his inner desires and jumps away from the man, landing in a crouch with a focused stare,

"Sorry, you Jeffrey McWild lookin jive, mo-fo, turkey ass busta, Wayne Brady dressin, mark ass, sucka, but I got thangs to do." Bayman turns around petulantly, and instantly slips on the smooth as eggs, slick wooden floor. He crashes into the staircase and the furious security official lunges forwards.

"THIS ISN"T OZZZ!" Bayman yells scurrying up the stairs as the black demon chases after him, yelling out every terrible thing he's going to do to Bayman once he catches his Porky Pig, squealing behind. Tears drip from Bayman's eyes as he claws at the wooden steps of the spiral staircase, using every ounce of energy he has left to crawl upwards. He's too young for this!

Sweat and tears flood the stairs as Bayman reaches the first landing of the second story, out of breathe and wheezing, but unfortunately, he feels the hot breathe of the grim reaper…the reaper of his comfortable sitting tool. But luckily, Christie stands at the far end of the hall, just now stepping out of the elevator with a lost look on her face.

"HELP ME, WOMAN!" Bayman squeals as he puts it all on the line and leaps onto the floor, sliding across the surface in his drenched wetsuit. Christie steps to the side, allowing Bayman to slam into the closed metal doors, but any pain is better than 'that one', he's sure… of course _he_ wouldn't know.

"Move aside, mam, I'm about to apprehend the prowler." The guard says, unbuckling his belt and flexing the nasty bulging veins in his oversized neck, which probably can't rotate.

"As if I care, I'm simply looking for the drinkery." Christie begins to step away, but Bayman grabs her ankle, sobbing like a babe, snot coating his upper lip,

"Don't leave me! I have my MacD's Map, I'll help you find the pub! Forget the mission, just don't let him make me his girlfriend!" Bayman hugs her leg desperately and Christie looks from one man to the other.

"Just kill him afterwards so he doesn't ask me to visit him in hospital." Christie yanks her slender leg away, covered in numerous types of liquid and the guard snickers viciously,

"Thank you, mam, I'll escort you back to your room afterwards. It appears you lost your cane, so just wait here." Christie raises an eyebrow,

"Cane?" Bayman seizes his opportunity to turn Christie's rage in the right direction and whispers,

"He thinks you're an elderly old grandma with nothin but ash down there! He thinks your beautiful silver locks are gray! I told him to repent, but he said Meteor Man would protect him!"

Christie closes her eyes and then re-opens them, a black, malevolent glow behind them and the guard freezes in place,

"Don't look Bayman, this will give you nightmares." Bayman laughs victoriously as he infiltrates the elevator and hears only the guard's whimper before the doors shut.

He stretches relieved, traveling upwards to his needed destination, the fourth floor, one floor above the honored guests' living quarters. He rolls out of the elevator at the ding and rushes to the eastern wing, looking down at his soggy map every five seconds, although it's a straight line. Bayman skids to a stop at room number six, and bursts through.

"No puede entre, senor grande! No tenemos comida de alma!" Both Spanish maids holler at Bayman as he rushes through their small room, slashing passed the television, interrupting their Escandalo TV,

"Yo Me La Encanta, yada yada, whatever, kick rocks!" Bayman waves them off, but stops, and turns to check out the owners of the hot voices. He almost gags and spins back around, now knowing that all Spanish women sound hot, even if they not.

The enraged yelling dies out as he shimmies out onto the long balcony that he pinpointed long before the arrival and he shuts the sliding door behind him. Bayman looks down happily and immediately pulls out black cord and the carabiner, tying everything carelessly around the metal railing. He inhales the beautiful air and begins to climb over the rail, but the glass door opens.

"I said, kick—" Bayman interrupts himself at seeing Christie step out onto the balcony, wiping blood from her hands and wearing the unfortunate man's belt around her neck like a chain, the golden buckle hanging like a medallion.

"What the hell are you doing, flub?" Christie asks, studying the hurried spelunking rig and Bayman points to the loose end of cable,

"Hold that end, I'm about to get the shot."

"So this is it, huh? One of the DOA Girls?" Christie asks curiously, wondering which one it could be that Donovan wants put in the ground. She has a haunting suspicion that it might just be Helena again.

"I'm thinking all six of them!" Bayman giggles with a lascivious grin splitting his face in half and Christie looks at him strangely, he just doesn't seem to be the malicious type.

"What do you mean?" Bayman dives into his wetsuit and brings out his best friend, well, his other best friend. A metal casing that glints in the moonlight, a round barrel, just the right size for the job, the only one ever made, custom made by the greatest artists at Samsung and Fuji, the ultimate spy camera!


	6. From Russia Wit Lust

Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.

Christie clinches her jaw tightly, struggling mightily to hold up the bulk of Bayman's hefty weight, dangling his roped girth at the row of balconies of the third floor. Her impressive biceps bulge and Bayman tries not to look at the veins in her neck. It kind of ruins his perception of her sleek and smooth, vulnerable form.

"If its all the same to you..." Christie begins, almost already out of breathe, placing her foot on the rail to keep upright, "I'll hang down and get the shots for you..." She swallows precious breathe as Bayman rights himself, studying his special camera,

"I wouldn't want to offend you with the naked forms of our special targets." Bayman giggles and Christie groans,

"Well you know, I'm open for trying new things." She explains and Bayman wiggles through excitement,

"So we _do_ have a chance together?" Bayman licks his lips, but Christie shakes her head through disgust,

"I said I was open for new things, I didn't say I opened my legs for idiots! Your hippo mass would squish me before you could do anything anyways."

"No one said you had to be alive. That's less talking anyways. I read Cosmo, I know what I'm doing." Bayman demands and Christie scowls,

"You sick f'ck, I oughta drop you!" She loosens her grip and the cord slips slightly, sending Bayman spiraling down in a squeal, but she catches him before long.

"Okay,okay!" Bayman pleads, having just now realized he has placed his insignificant life in her hands, "You know I love you!"

Christie smirks at his pathetic plea and is actually able to pull him back up slightly to his original starting position.

"Who's the first?"

"Uhhh, on Sesame Street, all the little kids would point her out in the lineup." Bayman explains and Christie nods in understanding,

"Lisa it is." Bayman smiles at the thought of his journey finally reaching the climax, but first he has to figure out this damn super technology.

He holds the expensive camera to his hairy ear and starts shaking it, making sure nothing is broken within. He repeatedly pushes the 'on' button but nothing happens. Christie clicks her tongue impatiently,

"You bought it without the instructions didn't you, Tubster?" Bayman looks up with a nervous grin, not going to accept defeat this easily,

"No of course not...i just need to load the film is all."

"I thought you said it was Digital."

"That means there are no hands on the watch right?" Bayman asks and Christie slaps her forehead, wondering just how she keeps getting roped back into this.

"I got it!" Bayman exclaims as he hears the loading beep after he smacks the camera hard, closing the battery compartment, "These lovers hands can fix any problems." Bayman admires his grubby hands proudly and Christie nods,

"How about fixing that big beach ball beneath your neck." Christie moves Bayman into position and he swings back and forth, gaining enough momentum to reach Lisa's balcony.

He grabs a hold and flops over the railing, falling down hard on the wooden ledge. He unhooks himself and hears Christie cursing from above, that he didn't fall, but not even her scathing comments can stop him now. He readies the camera as he nears the sliding glass window which is covered by a closed curtain from within. Luckily the balcony doors don't lock. He rubs his hands together, mashing in the the grimy dirt, and throws the door open.

"Surprise!" He leaps through the curtain and lands on the living room carpet frozen. Not in the bathtub at all! Fully clothed, cocoa skinned Lisa sits on the foot of her full sized, red sheeted bed, watching some form of Spanish Soap Opera. It strangely involves a bunch of husky exhibitionist men in rubber costumes, violently hugging each other and being watched by a large cheering crowd. Lisa turns her head with a slight tilt of curiosity and Bayman clears his throat loudly.

"Well, uh, the door seems to be in working order...so uh, I'm going to check back in with headquarters." Bayman begins to turn around, but Lisa quickly stands to her feet and holds her hand out,

"Nuh-uh, I don't think so, white boy." She says with a certain flare of attitude that Bayman thinks is called 'Gah-toe' or some form of the word, but he always thought she hailed from New Mexico.

"You're not Spanish?" He asks as he turns around and Lisa scoffs and shakes her thin finger in his face,

"Do I look Spanish to you?"

"Do I look Russian?" He asks with a placating smile and Lisa studies him for a second and then answers,

"If by Russian you mean grotesquely ugly, then yes!" Bayman's feelings drown in their own tears and he fights back some of his own, but Lisa's brown eyes enlighten, "That's just how I like em!"

Bayman barely has time to look up with a newfound hope before Lisa rips herself out of her footy pajamas and stands in front of him wearing a risque white and green intricately designed outfit, fitting tight against her form. Everywhere Bayman looks he just almost sees some naughty part of her anatomy, but fails, the fabric taunting him. He begins rubbing his hands together in anticipation, enthralled by Lisa's wide smile.

"You like mi Lucha Libre outfit? You'll role play the villain, and this is your outfit!" Lisa reaches onto her bed and thrusts out the smallest piece of underwear Bayman has ever seen, and pink besides. He's heard of thongs, in fact he's bathed in a tub of them once, but he knows for a fact they weren't made for someone of his size...or gender.

"I love your enthusiasm, chica, but I draw the line at pink." Bayman explains, but before he can continue, a whip cracks and out of nowhere, a long white spiked whip appears in Lisa's gloved hands.

"I truly don't remember asking you."

Christie yawns through boredom, looking down over the railing wondering if the pervert is making any progress. She almost falls as she hears a series of high pitched, pained scream of torture from below, and feels the all too recognizable tug on the end of the cord. The elephant has returned, and from the sound of it, he's being chased by hungry pygmys.

"Next room, next room!" Bayman hollers upwards and Christie quickly shifts the cord across the rail to the left, pulling him away from the balcony and swinging over to the next room. She leans over to see just what scared the poor boy and even in the dark, she can see tears flowing from his droopy eyes.

"What happened, dearest?" Christie teases and Bayman looks up with a terror stricken frown.

"That bizzatch draws the line between Freaky-Deeky and Malicious Sadist! And then she repeatedly stepped over it with those high heeled commando boots!" Bayman takes a second to catch his breathe as he swings loosely and Christie smiles,

"So you've finally learned your lesson after only the first room? Spying on girls won't get you no where."

"I am a resolute man, and I won't let one near death experience stop me. I don't go limp that easily!" Bayman readies his camera and Christie sighs,

"Thats not what she said..." She snickers under her breathe as she swings him towards the next room. Bayman wonders which of his two third-cousins she talked to as he checks the scribbles on his arm, checking to see who the next room belongs to. He doesn't know names, and 'young girl with free bouncing tetas' doesn't help him pinpoint any one girl. It does count out Christie though, but thats a given.

"I like surprises..." Bayman latches onto the rail like a five hundred pound leech and climbs over. This time he will be much more careful, but he doesn't think any of the other girls will try to kill him. He limps towards the door, the whip lacerations still paining his backside. He pulls the sliding glass door open and enters the dark abode. He immediately smells cherry blossoms mixed with a slight hint of reheated Chinese food.

Bayman tiptoes through the dark room, groping along the wall, but stops as he hears two faint female voices coming from deeper within.

"Not so fast, Lei-Lei...I'm not ready yet..." That voice belongs to the cute little redhead, the one that wavers on the side of jail bait, but Bayman would take the risk. He slowly follows the sounds of the giggling, attempting not to trip over his arousal.

"Open up a little more, Kas, I can't see..." Leifang whispers and Bayman almost drops his camera to free up his hand. He hears a loud gasp and almost crashes into the wall.

"Put it right there, thats perfect!" Kasumi squeals and Bayman drops down to the ground, crawling across the carpeted floor. Drool and sweat mixes together as he continues, turning on the camera. He rolls into a short hallway and posts himself in the small kitchenette, watching the two female forms maneuver themselves on the ground.

"Oh God, Lei, it's so deep!" Kasumi's excitement bubbles forth and Bayman can't contain himself. Without another second of hesitation, he leaps forwards to join in.

"Yep, the Atlantic Ocean is deepest at nearly 27,000 feet in Puerto Rico!" Leifang answers and Bayman slams into the far wall. He sinks down with a knot forming on his forehead as Leifang turns the page of the book spread out between them. Bayman fights back a growl of frustration as he attempts to limp away without being noticed. Luckily the two nerds are focused.

"Nigh time Geography? Seriously, Lord, what the f'ck did I do to you?" Bayman groans as he reaches the door, but in the dark, he got turned around and ended up at the front door. Either way, he can't go back. Not to face a rogue ninja and a scorned college student. He won't let this become the biggest disappointment of his life! That tiny slot is already filled by ole light-switchy below.

Bayman slinks out of the door, and closes it behind him, cutting off the giggles from behind him. The lit hallway is a comfort, but the suspicious looking maid turning the corner catches his attention. Don't they come in the morning? The young raven haired woman stops in mid step with a scowl. She vaguely reminds him of a Geisha he thinks he saw this one time.

Bayman quickly reaches deep into his pants, retrieving his tool and somehow places it to his mouth. The supposed maid looks at him awkwardly as Bayman blows and the annoying piercing of the whistle sends her backwards to the floor, holding her pumping ears. Bayman himself barely heard the sound because of the jungle that protects his eardrums.

"What the hell is your problem!" She yells, standing up in raged huff, rubbing at her delicate ears angrily. Bayman puts the whistle down and holds his arms up to explain,

"Hey babe, thats how they do it nowadays. When you see a hot girl and wanna get with her, you blow a whistle or something like that..." The young woman's scowl deepens as she rushes towards Bayman, somehow seeming to leer over him although she's shorter. Or its just that he cowers in fear.

"Thats the stupidest shit I've ever f'ckin heard! You'd have a better chance of saying you'd like to teach me how to sew, but first you have to stick your throbbing pin into my plump cushion!" Somehow her dirty mouth both scares and excites Bayman at the same time,

"So i still have a chance?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure you know you f'cked that up!" The woman prods Bayman in the gut and he back steps in fear, "You fat ass canister of fried lard!"

There's only one woman that he will allow to get away with calling him slightly overweight! There was must be retribution and he hates to have to use it. Well, not actually. Bayman quickly reaches into his pocket and tosses a small needle forwards, catching the loud talking girl in the neck. Her words halt and eyes widen for a second before rolling back into her head and she falls backwards.

"Watch out, there's a dart headed for your..." Bayman begins to speak as the girl's body flops out, "Oops, i guess I'm too late." Bayman snickers deviously as he retrieves his weapon.

"I think this camera can record live video, so how about me and you make the Unrated version of 'Memoirs of a Geisha'? I'll be _Ken WonTon_, and you can be _Unconscious Girl #3_. It's a small role i know, but you might just get a nominat--"

"BAYMAN!" Bayman spins around from his devious plan to see Christie standing behind him with a twisted look on her face, "I thought you were joking about that necro-sick shit!"

"What? Oh, I was! Seriously, darling!" Bayman begins to plead, "This girl is just unconscious. She was being mean to me!" Bayman drops down to his knees and forces tears to well in his eyes and Christie shakes her head at his forced, pathetic display,

"It won't work this time! I keep feeling sorry for you because you'll never be loved, but this has gone too far." Christie turns around to leave, but Bayman leaps forwards and clamps onto her muscular legs. He sniffs the snot back into his nose, but the tears continue,

"I'll turn away from my life of sin, just don't leave me!"

Our two protagonists continue to argue in the hallway of the hotel as the camera pans away and closes in on a shrouded figure, high on the top seat of the ferris wheel outside. His arms are crossed and his masked face shows only fury.

"So they've made their move...the miscreants. They've darted my disguised ally Kokoro in the neck and think that they'll get away with spying on my protectorates. I have sworn an oath to destroy all evil in this world and I swear I'll do it! Kasumi got Raidou, Ryu got Tengu, and Ayane got Genra so I'm definitely next right?"

The ninja slams his foot down through frustration, and almost slips off of the seat. The wheel creaks as it begins to turn so he decides to sit down, knowing of his less than auspicious past experiences with heights.

"I'll make my move soon, but I--" The figure turns towards the looming camera and quickly hides his face, before his obvious identity can be shown, "Dammit, I've been spotted! I was talking too loud again!


	7. Lipshtick What Liphtick

Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.

A/N : This was meant to be the final chapter, but it's not, so no Merry Christmas to you guys, there's more to endure!

Bayman sobs as he walks down the empty hallways dolefully, his only companion in life lost. Other than his pet twig that he accidentally sat on when he was five, he has never loved so much and lost so greatly. His face is still covered with painful, small hand prints, the only things that his beloved Christie has left him with, other than a broken heart.

Bayman scribbles hastily at his sheet of paper, attempting to put his feelings into mighty words, like those of Shakespeare's Sonnets or perhaps Usher's Lyrics, but either way, he will win back his love.

"_If your beauty was wood...and the world was full of..."_ Bayman scratches at his head for a moment and then smiles smugly, _"The world was full of termites, then the world would NEVER go hungry!"_

Bayman laughs triumphantly, gleaming at his work of art, the first line of his poem which he has already entitled, '_The Waltz of Love.' _When its turned into a movie, he'll of course cast Russel as himself, and for Christie, perhaps...hell, she can play herself. There will be tasteful full frontal nudity, so it would be perfect if she plays herself. Bayman begins to skip down the hallway at the thought and continues scribbling.

He halts his feminine and awkward skipping at once, sending all of his weight rumbling as he peaks at the door number to his left. He looks down at the pink marker on his arm and notices that this room belongs to the blond haired goddess that so easily represents Aphrodite's radiance and matches his own Ares quite easily. She quite possibly was a mermaid in a previous life.

"Helena...the only gal that has a chance of dueling my Christie in a beauty contest." Bayman giggles lowly, tossing his masterpiece on the ground without a second thought and grabs a hold of the doorknob, "What a wonderful exhibit you shall make!" Bayman throws open the wooden door and leaps into the light filled room, "Klack, klack, klack, klack, klack!" He snaps pictures left and right, aiming at nothing and everything, just making sure he catches _something_.

Bayman slams on the carpeted living room floor with a bunch of pictures of the plain, white floor. He used all of his energy to jump into the room, so he couldn't move his arms and for that, he curses his weight problem. So did Twigster, but that's a different story. He peels himself up off the ground and rushes behind a dolphin print couch and peeks over into the hallway. Down the hall and through that auspicious door, he hears the most sublime sound of running water.

Finally his quest can end! If he can score these pictures, Donovan will give him his favorite pair of sneakers back and just maybe call off the hit on his life, but the latter isn't as important. Those Adidas have scored him more average, self-conscious, low self esteemed women than he can recall. Bayman begins to tip-toe through the living room and towards the bathroom door, but Helena's voice from behind the wood freezes him in his tracks. He leaps down into the corner and attempts to pretend he's invisible.

"Oh, Marco, I'm ready for you to work your magic on my oh so special places!" Her voice is musical, like a ballad sung by Beyonce or maybe even Pink...wait, not her, the other one, the one that thinks she's Spanish. Bayman tries to replay the Lady Marmalade music video back in his head, but keeps getting distracted. He shakes the thoughts away as he sees a well built, superbly tanned male model of some sort walk passed him towards the bathroom. He carries a metal tray of scented oils and other bottles and although he wears nothing, Bayman can't help but to blankly stare. If he could get his ass that tight, he could...

"Hey, Marco!" Bayman yells out and the young man turns around and Bayman immediately regrets calling the man's name. He didn't travel however many miles he's traveled to look at yet another man who is more endowed than himself.

"And who are you?" He asks with an accent that Bayman can only say is either Greek, Mexican, or French, but most definitely not American or Russian.

Bayman stands up, allowing him to be eye level with the sculpted chest and still curses himself for being the poster dough-boy for Krispy Kreme.

"I'm Helena's brother's cousin's best friend's son in law's, boss's, personal trainer...'s daughter...shit." Bayman frowns after painting himself into a corner. He wracks his brain for ideas of an identity and Marco continues to stare at him, "I'm you!" Marco's face twists into disgust and horror and Bayman nods his head quickly,

"Oh yea, pretty boy. I'm from the future, and if you go into that room, your life will travel down an nonredeemable path. You'll become me, overweight although still handsome, and..." Bayman stops talking as Marco drops the tray, spins around, and dashes away screaming in horror about not wanting to become a Star Wars Villain. He hears the front door slam and Bayman cackles in success, looking down at the now spilled sensual oils on the floor.

"MARCO!" Helena's voice booms from the bathroom and without hesitation, Bayman rubs his hands through the scented spills and kicks open the door with his foot. He rushes into the steamy bathroom and sees Helena's head sticking out from behind the curtain. Luckily she has cucumber slices over her eyes, blocking her vision and other than that, Bayman recognizes a certain lipstick. One that is rumored to come off on nothing it touches.

If he were to ask for a certain favor from the lovely French Maid that involved his slightly flaky croissant, Christie would never know. And Persephone certainly wouldn't know, not even with her code reading or whatever it is she does.

"I'm here, my beautiful." Bayman mimics Marco as best he can, sounding like he has slush in his mouth, every ounce of his being ready to touch this woman's wonderful, glistening body.

"You know how important our appointments are, don't be late again!" Helena throws back the curtain and Bayman feels as if all the sins and wrong he's done in the world has been forgiven. Her dripping, golden river of hair flows down passed her shoulders and over her sumptuous breasts. Her bronzed stomach is defined without an ounce of unneeded flesh anywhere and her navel calls out to him to look further. Bayman swallows nervously as he continues scoping down to the forbidden fruit, the nectar that he thought he'd never taste...

...and the same twisted, horrified face that struck Marco strikes Bayman across the face like a sack of bricks. There's a difference between the dazzling landing strip in Passenger 57 and the jungle that the doomed plane in Lost got tangled in. And in _this_ blond jungle, there might just be a monstrous man eating dinosaur. Seriously, when was the razor invented!

"What are you waiting for, Mr. Brazil, what's holding up my bikini wax?" Helena plucks the cucumbers from her eyes and looks around confused at the nothingness within her bathroom. She could have swore she heard Marco or someone that sort of sounded like him, "Well _I'm_ not gonna touch it!"

Bayman screams through the halls, sending doors opening and guests screaming terrible obscenities in his wake. He scrubs his eyes with his oily hands, burning his eyes terribly, but anything to erase the image, he will endure. Unfortunately he's too much of an idiot to realize that the image is in his mind, not on the surface of his eyes. Bayman slams through a door blindly and tumbles forwards, crashing head over heels.

The painful bruises laughing at him from all over, he rubs his eyes on his fleshy sleeves and his blurry vision begins to return. He stands in the living room of yet another room, this one decorated in sky blue wallpaper and carpet. All of these rooms must be customized and if he remembers correctly, its Hitler's Apprentice that loves this color. He has no intention, none what-so-ever to see this annoying girl unclothed or at all. He stands up to leave, but realizes he needs to wash this oil out of his eyes and hands.

He looks around hesitantly, not wanting to be spotted by the high pitched yelling machine that is Hitomi. He creeps passed the closed bedroom door and hears the satisfactory sound of loud, tree sawing snores coming from within. Bayman quickly rushes into the bathroom and notices her sparkling bathwater still in the tub. He doesn't need to turn on the sink and risk a creak or any noise that could be heard. He steps lightly and reaches down to wash his hands, but the water level rapidly begins dropping.

"What in the..." Bayman reaches down further, attempting to reach the quickly disappearing water and finally hits the porcelain bottom. His eyes widen in astonishment as he sees the silver haired head of an Italian Assassin poking out from the silver dollar sized drain.

"That appeased me quite! I was most famished!" He says, licking his lips with a smile and Bayman stares at the man,

"How in the hell did you just drink all that water in less than..."

"Already I said, I was famished most."

"And what's up with that broken English?" Bayman asks through confusion and Leon blinks his eyes,

"Something in that oasis had me trippin. Sorry about that, bud." Leon smirks and Bayman shakes his head,

"This isn't an oasis! And how did you fit your head through that drain!"

"Not an oasis? Then what are these pebbles?" Leon spits out a couple of small white pellets and Bayman shakes his fist through frustration,

"Those are bath beads, you idiot!" Bayman yells and thinks to punch the man across the face, mostly because he has no access to his arms to block, but he hears a stir behind him.

"Peace out, playboy!" Leon's head disappears down the drain almost as fast as it arrived and Bayman feels tears bubble in his eyes as he turns around and sees Hitomi looming over him wearing a black muscle shirt and black leather pants.

"We were allies in WWII , ya know. No reason for us to fight now." Bayman quickly explains and Hitomi laughs loudly, a screeching cackle that sends Bayman cringing in pain. She produces a metal crow-bar from behind her back and bounces it up and down in her opposite palm, "Please spare me! I'm but a humble, lost, circus performer's third nephew's oldest teacher's favorite actor's cocky lumberjack's pet aardvark's pastry chef's...shit."


	8. Wha tha f'ck is Drink

Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.

A/N : Sheriff Bart - "Mongo was easy, the bitch was inventing the Candygram. Probably won't even get credit for it." (Blazing Saddles)

Bayman uselessly struggles against his leather restraints that shackle him to Hitomi's weird smelling, four posted bed. His hands are tied above and his feet below and if his memory serves correctly, this isn't the first time. Unfortunately this time, the culprits are still in the room. Hitomi and Ayane, an odd partnership for sure, both stand above the lumpy bed with devious, crooked smiles. Ayane's devilish red eyes don't help the situation.

"Do you two expect me to talk?" Bayman spits the words and Ayane cackles and shakes her head, unsheathing a small blade,

"No, Mr. Bayman, we expect you to die." Ayane begins to lean forwards and Bayman forces his eyes to stay open, not to show his wet pants terror, but Hitomi quickly grabs Ayane's armed hand,

"But i thought we needed his live body." That shrill voice sends shivers across Bayman's body, like thousands of little rat feet pattering across his skin.

"So you guys _do _want me for your own...carnal pleasures." Bayman asks with a reproachful head shake and the girls look away from each other and down at Bayman with disgusted faces. Hitomi actually pretends to be retching, or perhaps it isn't feigned.

"You wish, Russian, we've seen what you're working with." Ayane deprecates and Bayman swivels uncomfortably, attempting to cross his legs.

"Oh c'mon, it's cold in here." He attempts to defend his shame and Ayane laughs at him mockingly,

"I meant your face." Bayman gasps at the terrible remark and a small yelp escapes his pained throat, "Now listen closely." Ayane continues, beginning to spin the small blade among her fingers, "You are going to be part of me and Hitomi's greatest experiment. We're going to transfer my daddy's mind into your body, and _that's _why you're not dead yet."

"Yea, that makes perfect sense...but why are you working with Hitomi?" Bayman asks, still spilling through the dark recesses of his mind, trying to think of an ingenious escape. Ayane turns around and Hitomi steps forwards to explain,

"When Genra is reborn, we are going to use him to kill Kasumi so I can have my Einy back. If you knew anything about love, you'd understand." Hitomi turns away in a huff, as if she's fighting tears and Bayman can understand her plight. To be sexually attractive to no living creature.

"Hey, I've been in love before! Ya know those new J-Lo big booty mannequins?" Bayman giggles to himself at the thought because those were some good times. The cleanup was a bit of a hassle though, "But please tell me, where are all the Frankensteiny gadgets and electrodes and such?" Bayman lifts his massive head off the pillow to look around the plain, empty room. Ayane scoffs and holds up a small rag doll which sort of looks like Bayman himself, but the arms aren't muscular enough. Next to her, Hitomi holds a very old looking syringe full of what appears to be maple syrup.

"Have you ever heard of Aunt Jemima Voodoo?" Ayane asks, stroking the the top of the doll's head and Bayman has the haunting urge to start wagging a tail that he doesn't have, "In the Shinto Religion, it's quite taboo. In fact, it doesn't exist and we just made it up."

"Okay, but give me one last request." Bayman pleads and Ayane tilts her head to one side and then nods,

"Sure, what is it? And if you say 'sex', I swear I'll--"

"Nothing like that," Bayman quickly answers and starts thinking of a backup request and luckily thinks of one, "When my poem/movie/greatest work ever, The Waltz of...uh, damn, I can't remember the title, but when it's created, I want the proceeds to go to the starving orphans of the Middle East. It's terrible that they can't eat their usual diet of oil because the Americans stole it all."

"I didn't know you cared." Ayane says both dismissively and sarcastically and snaps her fingers, sending Hitomi forwards with her deadly, rusty needle. Bayman winces as she climbs up onto the bed next to him, but he quickly changes his mind,

"Wait, no, screw the orphans," Bayman says and Hitomi pauses with the needle inches away from his neck, "Just trick my grave out with some rims."

It's just wonderful that the first time he infiltrates a woman's bed that he's not related to, he gets to die. If he's going to the underworld, he wants to be able to do it in style. And hopefully it's lite syrup because he can't stand to gain any more weight. He closes his eyes and cringes, awaiting the fatal pinch as Hitomi makes her move, but he quickly hears two deafening cracks, like gunshots and two different pitched shrieks. As he begins to open his eyes, his body is jerked backwards and he slams his head on the floor. In a confused blur, he sees the room spin as he travels, pulled by something attached to foot.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Bayman feels the brisk cold of the outside world as he collapses to a balcony and looks up, the drug induced stars above seeming to spin above him through nausea. Due to his expert training in whatever field he's in, he's able to right himself and as he looks up, he once again has the desire to wag the tail he doesn't have.

"Christie!" Bayman leaps forwards and wraps his massive arms around his companion's petite frame, causing a small groan to escape her mouth. He begins jumping up and down excitedly with Christie in tow, but she finally wriggles free, "Girl, you don't know how sprung I am to see you!" Christie looks at him awkwardly,

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Of course, it's when a guy is really happy!" Bayman begins and Christie waves her hand in a circular motion, motioning him to elaborate further, "Like in the morning."

"Oh okay, for a second I didn't think--" Christie is interrupted by Bayman's ramblings,

"Like Christmas morning especially, when you know there's thousands of presents under the cactus and you run down the stairs, well, actually...there weren't any stairs in the orphanage, and I never got any presents because no one loved me, more like an apple and a slap from the headmistress, but still...I knew you'd come back for me!

Bayman purses his lips together and leans forwards, but Christie holds her hand up and his lips connect with her vanilla perfumed palm. Not lips, but hell, what can you do?

"Don't get ahead of yourself, bellylicious, I only came back because I need your help off this Island." Christie explains, looking westwards towards the direction of the docks.

"Ah, you need my specialty in master-boating? It's what I do best you know, honey."

"Not precisely. I figure I could use that global gut of yours as a flotation device. I'll have to hollow you out of course, but it benefits you, because I'll be riding you."

"But I'll be dead." Bayman answers sadly and Christie inhales air in between her teeth, attempting to sound regretful,

"Yea, sorry, but that's the trade off. How about this, I'll wear my cute little black cat outfit." Bayman's legs almost give out at the thought of that outfit, with the ears and the tail and the little paws. This woman _does_ love him.

"It's a deal! And to tell the truth, you can use my specially created tube to hollow me out..." Bayman reaches for his zipper, but he halts immediately as a seven pointed shuriken slams into the wooden balcony floor.

Christie leaps backwards startled, but immediately on guard as Bayman hugs the rail in tears. She looks upwards and isn't surprised to see Hayate standing arrogantly on the balcony of the level directly above them. She opens her mouth to taunt him and ask him if he wants a bullet in his ass like she gave to his annoying little sister, but Bayman speaks first.

"Holy shit, it's wingless." Bayman says, standing up without an ounce of trepidation apparent in his voice. Christie looks over mouth agape at his newfound courage. Hayate laughs derisively from above and points his long katana downwards,

"Come Derek, I invite you to impale yourself upon the end of my sword. Spying on my sisters is going to cost you more than you know." Bayman returns the derision with a scoff and Christie looks from one man to the other in confusion,

"Who the hell is Derek?"

"Quiet Holly, the men are talking." Both Bayman and Hayate say in unison and Christie readies her gun through the personal offense, but can't decide which one to shoot first. And Holly? Have these men gone absolutely crazy? Perhaps Hitomi was able to inject him with whatever that mixture was before Christie was able to lasso Bayman's foot and drag him out of the predicament. Either way, one of these bastards is going to get shot. She aims back and forth as Bayman and Hayate continue laughing and scoffing at each other, but she lowers as she picks up a hint of magnificent euphoria through her thin nostrils.

"Come down here and let me crush you with a big stone!" Bayman yells upwards, "I have the urge to do that for some reason." Hayate begins to leap, but stops and he looks behind him as a swift breeze slashes over the rooftop. Bayman and Christie feel it too and Christie realizes what the fragrance is. The perfect companion to her vanilla scent, almost a cinnamon, with a touch of nutmeg. The figure slashes through the sky, long beautiful hair flowing behind and an impressive weapon in front.

"No, it can't be!" Hayate yells and quickly and holds his blade at the ready as Ryu Hayabusa's face is unmasked by the moonlight and he lands gracefully on the tips of his toes behind Hayate.

"Are you prepared for another rooftop battle, Yatee-chan?" Ryu smiles and strikes forwards with his blade and Hayate barely dodges with a squeal. He recovers his footing and attempts an attack of his own, but Ryu easily blocks, locking their swords together.

"C'mon, Ryu, I told you to look after my sister, not let her play volleyball on some strange island where they're wigglin and jigglin all over and some black guy is the proprietor and...damnit, Ryu! Bayman was trying to take pictures of my sexually mature sisters! Especially Ayane, and you know she belongs to me!"

"I never tried to take pictures of that red eyed demon!" Bayman defends himself from the ledge below and Hayate scowls,

"You shut up!"

"Hey, don't yell at those two poor assassins," Ryu commands with a peremptory pointed finger, "Christie and what's-his-name are innocent."

"Woah, he said my name..." Christie sighs with passion behind her eyes and Bayman looks over, not able to discern why she doesn't look at him the same way.

"Yea, Ryu's a mystery entwined by a question mark, wrapped around an eggshell." Christie looks over with a scowl, furious that he ruined the mood,

"Enigma."

"Oh right. What did I say?" Bayman asks, hiding the frustration that his attempt at sounding brilliant burned to pieces.

"Bayman, I'm stupider just hearing it, I don't wanna know what'll happen if I repeat it." Christie returns her attention back to the man of her dreams and Bayman unwillingly joins her.

Ryu steps backwards, mercifully allowing Hayate to recover to his feet, but Hayate attempts a sneak attack. He strikes forwards with a thrust, but Ryu sidesteps him and slams the hilt of his blade down onto Hayate's hand, sending a shriek from his mouth and his sword falls to the level below. Bayman reaches out to catch it, attempting to impress Christie, but it falls too fast and he withdraws his hand with a feminine yelp.

"It appears I have disarmed you, Yatee-chan." Ryu says smoothly and Hayate sniffles, looking upwards at the much more skilled ninja. He refuses defeat.

"Then there's only one way to settle this, Ryu! And only I know the Rip Torn Sky Blast!" Hayate leaps backwards and thrusts his hand backwards, attempting to focus the mystical energy into his palm. Ryu only snickers.

"There are some trees down on the surface. Do you wanna throw yourself into one of them like last time, or I should use my Inazuma Ninpo and just blast you down there?"

Hayate quickly halts his attempt at gathering the fake, made up energy and shakes his hand at Ryu,

"Okay then, there's only one _more_ way to settle this! Put your hand out on six!" Hayate thrusts his fist forwards, then withdraws it and Ryu joins in, both of them shooting their hands into the open space between them and pulling back. On the sixth thrust, they hold their hands out with the specified attacks.

Hayate holds his palm out flat, all of his fingers together and Ryu holds out his first finger.

"Is this the Taiwanese version of Rock, Paper, Scissors?" Bayman asks, absolutely befuddled and instead of answering, Christie just slaps him across the back of the head and continues watching.

"Well, well, it appears that you have decided to use the katana," Hayate says, looking at Ryu's outstretched finger and giggles, "But i have chosen the Tatami Mat! Which your katana stabs into, but gets stuck! I take it from you and strike you down!" Hayate begins to do a little dance, waving his Tatami Mat in Ryu's face, but Ryu shakes his head and brings his left hand out from behind his back, all the fingers separated and extended,

"Unfortunately you didn't see my hiogi, my personalized ribbed fan behind my back. A Ninja always has a back up," Ryu continues the verbal battle, bringing a halt to Hayate's dance, "You attempt to strike me down with my own katana, but I deflect it and then with a bunch of up and down motions, i fan you to death!"

Hayate's eyes begin to fill with water and he backs away in horror,

"No! That can't be! I refuse that fate!" He continues to back step, not seeing the edge of the balcony and Ryu holds out his hand, but Hayate slips and with an ululating cry, he plummets off the balcony.

"Yatee-chan!" Ryu leaps down to grab him, but misses and Christie covers her mouth in astonishment, amazed how silky Ryu's hair actually is. Hayate slashes passed Bayman who does nothing to catch him, but Hayate catches the rope that is still tied to Bayman's ankle.

"Wait, no!" The force brings Bayman crashing to the floor and he slides up against the metal railing, his roped leg hanging off as a desperate Hayate dangles in mid-air, "Mi Amor, save me!" Bayman pleads, his leg feeling as if it will be ripped off, surprisingly seeing how short Hayate is. Christie looks over towards Bayman and then up at Ryu who winks at her and she bites her lower lip and waves, "Christie!" Bayman calls and Christie scowls and turns around,

"Damnit, Bayman!" Christie pulls out her gun and fires and Bayman covers his face with his hands, but the bullet accidentally misses him and connect with the rope.

"NO!" Hayate falls backwards and hits the ground, his feet touching easily since he was only dangling about three feet above. He wipes tears from his eyes and turns around petulantly, "Screw you guys, I don't need friends!" Hayate picks up his sword and rushes away into the jungle, his hands covering his streaming face. A load crack emanates outwards only seconds after he enters, "Damnit! I hurt my back again!"

"Are you guys okay?" Ryu asks, landing beside Christie and she giggles nervously and nods, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants. She quickly pulls out a mirror and checks her hair and then snaps it closed and smiles wider. Bayman quickly stands up and rushes in between Christie and Ryu,

"Yea, yea, you saved us, thanks. I could grow my hair out long if I wanted too, but well, I'm balding so it's like...well..." Christie elbows Bayman in the gut, sending him backwards and she steps closer to Ryu,

"Could I do anything to um..." Christie licks her lips, looking downwards longingly, "Repay you?" Ryu shrugs his shoulders and then shakes his head,

"Nah, not really. Zack wants to see you two though. Care to follow me?" Bayman shakes his head with a scoff,

"Actually, we were just about--"

"Sure!" Christie leaps into Ryu's arms and begins circling his chest with her thin finger, "Can I ride on your back?"

Bayman growls as Ryu leans down and Christie joyously climbs up on his shoulders, resting her head on the top of his. Ryu leads the way back into the hotel and Bayman grumbles as he follows with his limp. They travel down the hallway and then ride the express elevator to the top story. Bayman keeps staring up at Christie's elation and knows he could never compete with a tall, sinewy, long haired Asian. Pretty much, he's the exact opposite. And that sucks.

"Here we are, Zack's Playahouse," Ryu says as the elevator stops and both Christie and Bayman look at him confused, "He doesn't like the so called Anglo-Saxon term 'Penthouse'." Ryu shrugs as he lets Christie off his shoulders and leads the way out. The delightful smell of fried catfish enters their noses as they turn a corner and the pimped out layout comes into view. An 1000 inch flat screen TV on the front wall, Klipsch speakers scattered everywhere and a black panther print sofa smack dab in the middle.

"Welcome back, Ryu." Brad Wong says, lounging on a beanbag in the corner and Ryu waves as Bayman looks around and to his surprise, sees not only Brad, but also Jann text messaging away on a cellphone and Genny sipping on malt liquor. Why the hell wasn't he invited to the Island? What were the requirements? He's as cool as these guys!

"About time you got back!" Zack yells, emerging from a side kitchenette with Tina behind him, wearing a pink mini skirt that doesn't cover anything at all and a white, mesh top that has nothing under it.

"Sorry bud, I got sidetracked." Ryu says, stepping to the side and allowing Bayman and Christie to be seen by the party within. Zack scowls at Bayman, but then smiles at Christie,

"Damn, girl, how long's it been!" Zack hugs Christie tightly and she shares his laughter and hugs him back and Bayman stands with his mouth wide,

"What the hell! You know Zack?"

"Know? Shiiiit. Christie did these braids!" Zack lowers his head, proudly displaying his silver dyed cornrows.

"Why won't you let me braid your hair, Zacky?" Tina asks from behind and Zack scoffs mockingly,

"Because you have the hand control of a retarded, palsy monkey with slight arthritis and probably tennis elbow."

"Oh." Tina nods and sits down and Zack turns back around to Bayman.

"Well, if you a friend of my girl, you a friend of mine. What up, Blood?" Bayman holds out his closed fist to receive his daps, but Zack looks down at his fist, and then at Bayman,

"Ngga, I don't know you." Zack turns around, leaving Bayman hanging and snaps his fingers,

"Tina, get Christie a straight Jack with some colorful ice cubes, and get Baytoven here some orange drink from the cabinet."

"I don't even get no juice?" Bayman asks insulted and Zack thinks about it and then shrugs,

"Nah, you can have some 7-Up in your drink though. Tina, order up, get to it!" Zack snaps and Tina leaps to her feet and rushes into the kitchen.

"That aint right, bro." Bayman answers and Zack peaks over his shoulder and then at Christie,

"Girl, where'd you find this wanker?"

"Zack, it's me, I'm from the Tournament," Bayman begins to explain, "I retired after one and then came back in three, kind of like Jordan." Zack scowls and has to hold his fist steady not to strike,

"You better come up with a better comparison!"

"Why, is that a Race thing?" Bayman asks and Zack scoffs,

"No, its a size thing, inkee-dink." Zack erupts into laughter and everyone else in the room joins in. Bayman frowns and moves off into a corner.

"Hey, Jann, you gonna have to turn that phone off when the movie starts." Brad says from the corner and Jann Lee looks up,

"Nah, son, this fine-ass mama is talkin mad durtay!" Jann says, slamming his response into the phone and laughs, "Don't be jealous because you don't have a Live-Links briz!"

"How do you know she's attractive?" Bayman asks and everyone looks over at him with lowered eyebrows. He steps back out of the room and closes his mouth and everyone resumes the conversation.

"Either way, she aint as hot as Tina." Zack says as Tina returns with the drinks and Brad nods his head as her rounded booty walks passed his grounded position,

"I drink to the moon! The mucho voluptuous moon..." Brad takes a drink and Gen Fu cackles,

"I'd give up my granny porn for her." Zack covers his mouth in disgust as Christie receives her drink and Bayman reaches for his, but Tina slaps his hand.

"Hey, Ryu, where's my munchy bag?" Zack asks curiously, "I need my treats while we watch this new Rumble Roses XXX."

"Oh damn, sorry man, I think I dropped it while saving Christie and Bay...the guy over there." Zack scowls and begins itching his shoulder in withdrawal,

"You toyin wit my emotions, Dawg!"

"I have something you can nibble on, Zack." Christie says as she takes a sip of her drink and everyone turns towards her. Christie places the drink down and reaches for the zipper of her pants and everyone leans forwards. Bayman's mouth widens, furious that he never even got go over the bra.

Christie unzips her pants and reaches down, all the guys gasp, and Gen Fu checks his pacemaker. She emerges holding something no one expected to find on her.

"They're just Bayman's peanuts from the plane, I didn't want them to go to waste."

"Girl! You don't toy with my emotions either!"

epiNOG :

Once again, big ups and Grande Thankz to all those that endured my twisted humor and took the time to read this. I had a hell of a time writing it and I hope you enjoyed it equally. I had originally meant to it to be shorter, but it seemed to pick up so I tried my best to elongate it without making it boring or feel like filler. Success?

Happy Holidays.

-To the Saviors-

Beastboy – Thanks for the compliments. Every review brings a smile, but the first brings that much needed confidence. I hope you enjoyed it to the end.

x-Red Eye-x – To tell the truth, your comments on me watching Christie's ending video was part of the catalyst that started the writing of my other story, Happy Ending. Hopefully I can do the same with the DOA4 endings. I'm gonna buy it soon, but then of course I have to buy a 360, which is a bit more troublesome...

Scrooge – You were the first to show a slight, I dunno, 'disappointment' when I said I was going to finish this earlier than I did, so thanks for encouraging me to make it longer. I think it worked out well. And sorry for making Christie shoot Ayane in the ass, but she's still alive, no worries.

Crimson Guard – I can honestly say I never saw Bayman like this before I started storming ideas of making this story. But I got this idea in my head that he wasn't just this cold, evil assassin that would do anything for the right price. He's a bumbling idiot that just wants a piece of ass that he'll never, ever, ever, attain.

James Hanson – Sorry, no Zack killing here, hehe. This ending sequence needed him for the needed affect I think. You don't think Christie would be merciful? Probably not, but its more pity she has on Bayman I think. Thanks for continuing to stop by.

Mother Svet – I could never kill off Bayman, I'd be sad because no one would attend his funeral. Maybe Leon, but that would probably just be to kick the coffin over or to steal the flowers.

fireinu – Short and to the point. I would've accepted, "Update, biatch!" I hope I updated in time to keep your eye and you enjoyed it to the end.

Kudos all Around – The pair is a match made in heaven aint it? Hehe. I don't know if anyone's explored it yet, but I know its not the most original of pairings. But in that cut scene in Doa3, they just seemed to have chemistry.

Thunderxtw – Thanks for stopping in and stickin in it to the end. Also, thanks for the push to add a bit more, same with Scrooge over there. Hopefully the ending was up to par with the previous chapters and I look forward to continuing your story.


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